“You’re a skeptic, doctor.”
“Eh, what’s that? What does skeptic mean?”
Mange thought for a while.
“A skeptic is a man … a man who is … a person who doesn’t love …”
“Wrong! Don’t use words you don’t understand! Leave me alone! I might do something unpleasant, something I don’t want to do! I’m in a bad mood!…”
Music Maker began pointing. The general and Yegor Yegorich turned pale and held their breaths.
“I’m shooting this one,” the general whispered. “I … I … Excuse me, this is the second time you have …”
But nothing came of the dog’s pointing. The doctor, with nothing to do, threw a pebble, which struck Music Maker between the ears, and immediately the dog set up a howl and leaped in the air. The general and Yegor Yegorich looked round. They heard a rustling sound in the grass, and a large bustard flew up. The members of the second group were making a lot of noise and pointing at the bustard. The general, Mange, and Vanya fired. Mange missed. Too late! The bustard flew over a mound and vanished in a field of rye.
“I put it to you, doctor, this is no time for a joke!” the general said, turning sharply on the doctor. “Not the right time, is it?”
“What?”
“It’s no time for a joke.”
“Stupid of you, doctor,” Yegor Yegorich observed.
“Well, they shouldn’t have brought me along. Who told you to bring me? I don’t want to explain anything. I’m in a bad mood today.”
Mange killed another lark. Vanya aimed at a young rook, fired, and missed.
“Aimed too high, dammit!” he muttered.
Two shots were heard in quick succession. Bolva, on the other side of the mound, had shot down two quail with his heavy double-barreled shotgun, and he put them in his pocket. Yegor Yegorich aimed at a quail and fired. The quail, wounded, fell in the grass. Yegor Yegorich triumphantly retrieved the quail and presented it to the general.
“In the wing, Your Excellency. Still alive, too.”
“True, she’s still alive. Ought to have a summary execution!”
Saying this, the general lifted the quail to his lips and bit through her neck with his eyeteeth. Mange killed a third lark. Music Maker began pointing again. The general flung his cap away and took aim. “Take that!” A big quail flew up, but at that moment the good-for-nothing doctor somehow got into the line of fire, being almost directly in front of the muzzle of the shotgun.
“Get out of here!” the general exploded.
The doctor jumped to one side, the general fired, but as it happened the shot was fired too late.
“Young man, that’s a bloody awful thing to do!” the general roared.
“What did I do?” the doctor asked.
“You got in my way! Who told you to get in my way? I missed the bird, thanks to you! God knows what’s happening, but whatever it is, it’s all an unseemly mess!”
“What are you shouting for? Pfui! I’m not afraid of you! I’m not afraid of mere generals, Your Excellency! I’m especially not afraid of retired generals! So please shut your mouth!”
“What an extraordinary fellow he is! Walks around and messes everything up! It’s enough to try the patience of an angel.”
“Stop shouting, general! If you have to shout at someone, shout at Mange. He’s afraid of generals. You can’t unnerve a real huntsman! You might as well admit you don’t know how to fire a gun!”
“Enough, sir! One word from me, and there’s a dozen thrown back in my face!” the general said, and then he turned to Vanya. “Vanya, dear boy, give me my powder horn!”
“What made you ask that soldier of fortune to go hunting with you?” the doctor asked Yegor Yegorich.
“Had to, my dear fellow,” replied Yegor Yegorich. “Simply had to take him. I owe him eight thousand.… Yes, my dear boy, all those accursed debts of mine …”
Yegor Yegorich left the sentence unfinished and waved his hand.
“Is it true you are jealous of me?”
Yegor Yegorich turned away and aimed at a high-flying kite.
“Lost it, you little whippersnapper!” came the rumbling roar of the general. “Lost it, and it cost a hundred rubles! You’re a little pig, that’s what you are!”
Yegor Yegorich went over to the general and asked what the matter was. It appeared that Vanya had lost the general’s cartridge bag. A search was undertaken, and the hunt was broken off. The search lasted an hour and a quarter, and was crowned with success. With the cartridge bag recovered, the hunters sat down for a rest.
The second group of quail hunters was also having its troubles. Within this group Mikhey Yegorich behaved as badly as the doctor, and perhaps worse. He knocked the guns out of their hands, quarreled violently, thrashed the dogs, scattered powder around, and in a word—the devil knows what he wasn’t up to! After some unsuccessful shooting at quail Kardamonov and his dogs went after a young kite. They winged it, but were never able to retrieve it. Captain Kardamanov, second class, killed a marmot with a stone.
